9 Haziran 2020

The Unparty and Hair Pants.

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Babes

The Unparty and Hair Pants.
In the late 70s and early 80s most girls wore their pubic triangle with little thought about it; from the age of 10 many had the early vestiges of hairy pants that would in the next few years blossom into the variety of curls, in sparse, generous, Black, Brown, Blonde, Red and eventually grey marker of womanhood. Some wore the triangle with a resign and acceptance, others hid the marker behind a wall of shame prompted by their mothers and religious teachings.

Few if any bothered to trim and at the beach or public pool those in the latest fashionable swimwear frequently showed a few whisps of wayward pube peering around the groin when at the beach. For some the fussy detail skirtlets were added to mask any wayward whisps or hirsute showings. The mention of trimming, shaving or waxing by any ungallant boyfriend were dismissed as far too sexy. Some bleached their inner thigh hair but for many a once over with a lady-shave was to become a faster less incident prone remedy, not without its issues with all the intense buzzing and vibration is just on the wrong side of “too much for down there”.

I had admired Fi from a distance and we had been out for a drink once or twice or had met in the staff canteen at lunchtime a few times but nothing more. A chance invitation to a colleagues flat warming would go better with a female friend. I was not looking for a serious Girlfriend, having recently made a mistake with one girl, I was not looking for another girl to start dating.

Fi was pleasant enough. Slim figured, tidily dressed with pretty face and wining smile but her personality was best described as introspective. Here speech was a little dull and flat-toned. When with me at lunch or 1-2-1 in a corridor she was very chatty as soon as anyone else, even her own family, was involved she rarely spoke.

Whilst at the flat warming one of her workmates statements must have stirred her mind into action. A few days later she dropped an invitation under my office door. Fi invites you to a social evening on Saturday 2nd August at 8.00 p.m. RSVP. The following lunchtime I passed Fi in one of the office’s lengthy corridors and agreed to be at her ‘social’.

The Saturday of the social arrived and I dressed in my usual smart casual manner, colour matching my clothing. I slipped out the front door and settled into the seat of my little Japanese van, the engine spun into life and I slipped out of the driveway. Wondering who else might be there and if I might get to chat with Nina a more dynamic and sexy girl equally comfortable in tight jeans, short skirt or tailored dress. Fi’s home was only a few minutes drive from my parents home so it was a short. I parked on the road close to her home, grabbed the bottle I had been asked to bring and made my way to the door.

I rang the bell and a few moments later Fi appeared. Dressed in canlı kaçak iddaa a short black skirt, under a black blouse and her hair piled up in a soft pile of curls. She stepped back and asked me in I followed her gesture and then followed her into the lounge. I admired the subtle statement her black clothing made. In reality the skirt was more of a wide belt, its material stretched over her slim frame. Tug-tug. The lounge was illuminated by a few table and a standard lamp. The stereo played the local commercial radio Saturday Night Party quietly. I settled on the sofa and Fi settled close to me. Tug-tug. We made a few attempts at conversation and ended up sitting in silence.

Would you like a drink?
I’ve brought a lemonade I’m driving.
She moved off tugging the skirt hem back down to upper-thigh, hiding the laced tops of hold-up stockings.
Returning from the kitchen with my drink and a wine for herself. Tug-tug
We sat in awkward silence sipping our drinks.

Where are the rest of your guests?
Rest?
Yes, didn’t you invite more people.
Errr.
Where are they
I didn’t ask anyone else just you.
Oh…
The silence continued only broken by the quiet tick of the clock.

Where are your family?
Away.

When are they back?
Later.

Tug-tug

Wine OK?
Yes

Oh

Tug-tug

Is there something wrong with your skirt?
No.
Why do you keep pulling at it.
Don’t know it’s new…my sisters…and she’s not as tall as me.
So why did you not wear your own skirt?
I wanted to impress…tug-tug.
It shows off your legs. You should worry less about it
Oh? Tug-tug.

Keep tugging at it won’t make it any longer; and you have nice legs so why worry?
I don’t have any pants on!
Oh. Why?
Spoils the line and I did not want to show a VPL. Tug-tug
Perhaps you should stop tugging at it or go and change.

Tick…tock…Tick…tock…tick…tock.

I finished my drink and notice Fi’s glass was empty too.

More?
OK.
I stood took Fi’s glass and made my way to the brightly illuminated kitchen.

The clock struck the hour, I poured our drinks and returned to the Lounge. Fi was swaying and slowly gyrating to the music her eyes closed and the hem of the skirt rucked up showing the crescent of flesh between stocking top thigh and under buttock not unattractive but perhaps also not quite what I had expected.

I put Fi’s drink on the table beside the sofa and settled myself onto the chair. Outside the sun was setting and casting an orange glow into the lounge. Highlighting Fi’s hair and illuminating her slim profile. I looked at the family pictures and the few ornaments which must have marked holidays as they were an eclectic collection.

The music on the radio ended and Fi’s eyes opened her hands straightened her skirt and smoothed the material back around her body. I raised my glass in salutation.

You enjoy that?
Yes?
You looked lost in the music.
Did I?
Did it take you anywhere canlı kaçak bahis remind you of anything?
No.
I brought you another wine.
Thanks.
The silence flooded back.
The clock ticked away the seconds and minutes. A commercial break played on the radio intruding into the music.

There’s food.
Oh
Mum left me some food, it’s in the fridge.
Shall I?
No, I’ll go.
She stood tug,tug and wandered off to the kitchen the skirt riding up again.
There was a clatter of plates and rustle of packaging.
Fi returned with a couple of bowl of crisps and one of dry roast pea nuts.
Bending from the waist she showed the neat air gap between inner thigh and groin as the skirt rose higher. Tug, tug.
She clicked the light on the table off and wandered back to the kitchen to return with some dip and crudites putting the plate and central bowl on the dining table, followed by some pizza and a rice salad. Cold meats followed and sausage rolls. Tug,tug – click another table light went out leaving just the standard lamp in the corner of the room

How may did your Mum cater for?
Twenty.
Twenty?
Yes.
We’ll never eat all this!
Don’t care…your here…that’s all that matters. Tug..tug
Oh.

She handed me a plate

Eat up.

In the semi gloom I picked a few items and sat on the sofa
Fi settled beside me…tug, tug…and nibbled at the items on her plate.
We ate in more silence the radio played on. I put my plate to one side and went to the kitchen for another drink.

When I returned the radio was playing a slower tune.
Fi took my hand as I put down my glass and pulled me to stand with her. She moved in close to me and writhed and wriggled in time to the music she looked up at me and we kissed. I slid a hand down to her skirt, pulling the material up before squeezing the warm squashy flesh of her smooth buttocks. She pressed against me. Another quiet tune played we swayed on. I moved my hand to her waist and felt for the fastening I slipped the link and the skirt dropped to her ankles unconcerned she stepped out of it.

Better?
I felt her head nod against my chest.
The music finished and the programme ended.
We sat down and Fi picked the skirt up to restore her modesty.

Leave it off.
But.
It’s a distraction and who’s going to see?
She shrugged and leant against me on the sofa. The skirt a forgotten tangle of material at our feet.
We kissed.

The international news played through and the weather, then another speech programme started being late night it was the personal health and problem programme , the programme babbled on.

My hand rested on Fi’s naked hair covered groin my fingers raked slowly through the curls. Her legs parted inviting my fingers to explore her pussy. I felt her damp readiness and the sticky hair between her legs. The smooth skin of her thigh Fi snuggled closer. My fingers traced slow circles around her vulva stroking each hair covered bahis siteleri canlı lip and ocaisionally slipping into her open labia feeling her moisture and heat.

This Bra’s uncomfortable.
Pardon?
This bra is uncomfortable, it’s digging in.
Take it off then.
But…
If it’s digging in, take it off.
Fi wriggled herself upright and arched her back reaching round she pinched the clips open and then burrowed up each blouse sleeve to ease down the shoulder straps and pass them under her elbows. The with almost a final flourish the limp black garment was pulled from the open neck and flicked away across the room followed by her skirt.

She settled back.

Comfortable?
She nodded.

From the radio a voice said “Now a caller on line 10, Hello line 10…what is your call to us about?”
A male voice intoned, ‘I’d like to take my girlfriend to a nudist beach but she says no. So how do I help her to be naked with me’.
Line 10 does she undress with you when you are alone?
Yes she wanders around my flat most evenings in just a bra or pants.
Have you thought about a club day trip… The rest of the answer was obscured by Fi mentioning how nice it would be to walk around naked outside without a worry.
The radio babbled on and the clock struck the hour.

My hand continued it’s circling stimulation of Fi’s pusy, she sighed and drew her legs up and spread her thighs wider.

Feels delicious what you are doing.
Enjoying it?
Oh yes, I am getting turned on by this.
Feel good inside?
Very.

We kissed
Her tongue probing and urgent.
I slipped a finger into her vagina she trembled
Mmmmm.
Nice?
I felt her head nod and we kissed slow nibbled kisses. Her tongue meeting mine.
I slid down onto the floor she followed my lead and we lay side by side her wet pussy plugged by my probing fingers.
She groaned and trembled gently.
I….I think I’m going to cummmmm…Oh…Oh yesss, fuck…Oh! Oh! mmmm yes.

We lay on the lounge floor my hand cupped over her vulva and held there by her hand.

She rolled away shaking, Oh god.
What up what’s the matter.
I’ve never cum before.
Never?
No.
Should I go?
Yes….no….Oh god…I’m so confused.
Should I go.
Yes…No…kiss me before you go.

I moved to kiss her tear streaked face.
We kissed gently.
I sat up then rolled to stand up in one fluid move. Fi sprang up beside me.

We walked to the door Fi oblivious to her semi naked state. She released the catch. And held the door closed uncertain what to do.
Her face turned to mine the tracks of her tears streaking the mascara down her cheeks.

Can I see you again
I guess so
Can I turn this around? She indicated a ring on her left hand’s third finger.
I suppose…
It’ll mean we are an item…
She looked into my eyes again and we kissed.
Ok turn your ring.

She beamed a smile

Now I must be going. I have church tomorr…later.
She kissed her finger tips and lay them on my lips.
Until another day, she said.

She drew the door open and let me pass.
I walked down the drive and unlocked my vehicle.
I looked back Fi was standing in the doorway her semi naked state clearly on view to the neighbourhood.
I started the engine gunned the throttle and drove out of sight.

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